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MEMOIR


First, in reference to rumours which had reached him that various expressions in his wife's letters afforded the presumption that he had "treated her with cruelty," that "her life had become insupportable," and that she had "resolved to end it."*[1]

"It is impossible that such could have been the tenor of her letters . . . It is most true, God knows—and I am not aware that I ever wished or attempted to conceal it—that after our arrival on the coast, it was out of my power to be the same attentive husband that I had endeavoured to be previously. Not only was my health entirely broken, but I frequently suffered acute bodily pain—and if a temporary remission of pain took place, I was harassed almost beyond endurance by an accumulation of business arising from various causes. Thus worn out in body and mind, at a time when I knew the public service demanded my best energies—how could I be the attentive husband I was at other times? But was she one seriously to care for the want of attentions, the absence of those accommodations, or of those trifling articles of luxury, or even of convenience, to which she had been accustomed? Was she one seriously to care for such temporary privations, or even for peevishness of temper, when evidently induced by acute bodily suffering! . . . . I shall never forget the words she used. I had told her that, at one period of my illness, I had felt sure of dying, and that, then, my only thoughts had been about what would become of her. She looked up into my face, and said, 'And do you really think that I could

    all his friends will feel that there is no indelicacy in making public the passages above quoted.

  1. * We know of no such expressions, or of anything at all resembling them in any of her letters.